


Radio Silence

by Persephone_Van_Dyke



Series: Not The Way I Love You [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Infidelity, Silence Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-15
Updated: 2011-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-23 18:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephone_Van_Dyke/pseuds/Persephone_Van_Dyke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he's silent, even with his mobile expressive face and ability to make himself understood, he's distant from her, and she wants to get closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Radio Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Silence' in [kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/)
> 
> Not my characters, not making any money from this

  
Whirr, buzz of static.

'Jack? Jack?' Tosh's voice, anxious, rapid, comes over the comms. 'Jack, can you hear me?'

More static, violent fizzing noises.

'Gwen, are you there? Gwen?'

More fizzing, then a voice, distant but distinct.

'Hey Tosh - Gwen's with me - the Creotalians locked us in a basement. I'm not sure of the location - can you track us down?'

'I can triangulate the signal from the comms,' she said, 'but the tracking software's on the blink, it'll take a while.'

'Don't wanna rush you, Tosh, but we may not have a while. My Creotalian's not great, but I'm damn sure they're coming back soon.'

'I'll be as quick as I can, Jack.' She sounded resolute, nervous, but her mind 110% on the job. 'Owen's on his way to the area, as soon as I've got a location I'll send him straight there.'

'Jack?' Gwen was hugging her knees in a corner. 'What will they do to us?'

He pauses for a moment, considers not telling her - but it's no use, Gwen will insist on the truth.

'If we can't get out - we're going to become hosts for their larvae - they need bodies to lay eggs in,' he said, haltingly. 'And Creotalian babies like their hosts alive but paralysed.'

'Oh god.'

He went and sat beside her, wrapped an arm round her. 'Hey. Tosh'll get us out. We're gonna be fine.'

'But what if we're not?' she snapped, and he couldn't blame her. The team had been working more or less roud the clock for six days as the Rift spat out unknown horrors in a spasm of activity. She was tired and tense and now she was scared.

'What if we're not, eh?' she asked again.

He feels solid and reassuring next to her, even though he has nothing helpful to say. Without really thinking about it, she twined her fingers between his, clasping his big hand in her own.

 _\- and there it is again the thought I didn't want to think, his thumb on my clit his fingers in me, stoppit Gwen you're going to die and all you can think about is shagging Jack_ -

She squeezed his hand tighter as if to fight off those thoughts, and the sudden bizarre burst of elation and adrenaline that went with them.

 _\- if I'm going to die, why the hell not? I don't want my last time to be Sunday with Rhys while I had a hangover and my awful teddybear nighty on and over in four minutes flat_ -

Looking up, she met Jack's eyes in the gloom, and very deliberately laid a finger to her lips, then took his hand and guided it to her breast.

He stared at her, eyes wide, a "what are you doing?" face clearer than words. She made a gesture, which went "you, me, come on, why not?"

He reached to touch her engagement ring, glanced from it to her face enquiringly.

She gestured wildly, a shrug, a point at the door - _aliens are coming to lay eggs in me!_ \- repeated the "you, me, now" gesture.

Again, a question face, "are you sure?" He looks doubtful.

She's glaring at him. He pointed at the comms earpieces they both wore, grimaced, and she nodded impatiently, reapeated the finger-on-lips gesture. She knows they can't take them off in case Tosh or Owen needs to speak to them.

She pulled his hand back to her breast, and thank god, this time he submitted, gave a soft squeeze and then stroked her as he leaned in to capture her lips. He kissed her harshly and fast, totally silent, controlling his breathing.

Jack can't begrudge her what may well be a last request - he's not holding out a lot of hope for them, because the Creotalians are smart as aliens go, and they could have hidden their captives in any cellar in Cardiff. Pre-emptive survivor's guilt plays in, makes him gladder to do what she's asking, because he knows that sooner or later - even if it takes months - he will walk away from being a Creotalian nursery. Plus, he's immune to being weirded out by last-desperate-fuck-in-this-life sex, (Time Agency work and the vagaries of conning his way round the universe meant he'd had quite a few last fucks).

And he's been aching for her since - well, probably since he taught her to fire a gun, if he's honest.

Now he reacted hungrily when she pulled him harder against her, one hand on the back of his head, fighting to get him closer, crushing her lips against his. She kisses like she can't breathe, like she's trying to inhale him, and he is giving back everything she gives him, entirely focussed on her.

'Jack?' He jumped. Tosh's voice. 'Jack, you still there?'

Gwen can hear everything on her earpiece, but she's not stopped moving, her lips pressing over Jack's face, finding his earlobe on the opposite side to the comm unit, biting it, not very gently. It's all he can do not to gasp sharply.

'Hiya, Tosh!' He sounds forcedly cheerful. 'What's the news?'

'Still nothing - but leave the comms open, I'm going to try tracking back through the satellite connection.'

Gwen unhesitatingly wrenched open the neck of his shirt, continued to kiss down his neck and working across his chest. His teeth gritted - he wrapped one arm round her, hugged her close to him, even while talking quite calmly to Tosh.

'Cool, sounds good. Keep working at it, we're counting on - '

Gwen made a move - almost a grab - at his cock, and he physically twitched, an instinctive pull away followed by a shuddering submission to her grip, all done in complete silence and with hardly a break in his speech. Just a slight rise in pitch.

' - _you_ to get us out of here.'

He was semi-hard in her hand, and a couple of severe presses - the heel of her palm along his length from root to tip - made him thicken and swell. With an expressive flick of the eyebrows - "two can play at that game, Gwen" - he pushed a hand firmly between her thighs, curving his fingers up to rub roughly along her lips under her jeans. Any other time, she'd have slapped him away, demanded finesse, but now he has her biting her lip, shoving forward, trying to get the pressure to where she needed it. A sudden surge of sensation ran though her cunt, making her crave more pressure, more touch. She was sitting on the floor, legs stretched,and when he put a hand behind her shoulder and leans, easing her back to lie down, she goes with him. Tipping her head not to bump the earpiece, she reached up, pulled him down beside her, hastily unzipping her jeans with her other hand.

He almost spoke. He wants to ask her things - _are you sure, can I really, how do you want me to_ \- ? But there are no words, so he glanced down to the smooth lap of her lower belly, the cluster of dark curls just visible, and back up to her face, and quirked an eyebrow. She seized his hand again, and pushed it into her jeans, guiding his forefinger between her wet lips. She arched her bum up a little to make it easier, and bit her lower lip hard not to gasp when his touch sures up against her and he began to flick his finger alongside her clit, staying indirect, finding a stroke she liked. Simultaneously, she reached over and made another grab at his cock, and grasped it firmly. Despite the intervening layers of clothing, he jumped again, tipping his head back as if trying to blank out the sensation and keep himself silent.

The hum of the comms was still buzzing gently in their ears, and occasionally - startlingly intimate - they heard Tosh curse or exclaim softly to herself, clearly working furiously on tracking them down.

Gwen wrenched Jack's trousers undone, tugging hard at buttons in her determination, and shoved her hand inside, her fingers quickly encountering hard, warm flesh. She pulled his cock out of his boxers and stroked it, gazing as if to imprint it on her memory - generously sized and thick, with a luscious curve and delicate skin that reddens under her fingers. Jack's lips have parted, now, his eyes half-closing as he tries to keep from moaning.

His own fingers are still chasing up and down between Gwen's  
wet lips, seeking out her clit and teasing it fast. Now he ventures lower, slides one finger inside her, and feels her shudder against his arm, thrust firmly up and try to draw him in deeper. She's nodding, and her lips are moving but she doesn't make a sound. The clack of her heel on the concrete floor, as she draws up her knees a little to give him access, is shockingly loud.

The cellar is so quiet he thinks he can hear the smooth slick sound as he slips a second finger into her, his erection twitching a little from just feeling the heat of her cunt round his fingers, the softness and wetness of her. And the tiny noise of the hitch of skin, as she rubs his cock, uncovering his damp tip and then sliding smooth skin over it again, surely that's audible?

She's reaching up to him, trying to pull him down to kiss her again, and he obliges, biting a little at her lower lip, tugging it between his teeth a little. Because he's Jack, and he never totally takes things seriously, he half-smiles as she gives a tiny, uncertain whimper. But then she snatches her hand away from his cock for a moment, with a raised-eyebrowed, angry look. The message is quite clear: "Try to make me make a noise, I stop!" And Jack isn't going to risk that, not when she was jerking him off so fast and so rough, her grip firm and supple, making him ache for her.

She stopped kissing, but pulled his belt (still done up) in the direction of her lap, as if trying to hitch him on top of her. Now it's his turn to shake his head - he's got no condoms, and he's had one too many imminent-death fucks to risk it without. If they escape - well, better safe.

Instead, he added another finger, making three in all, arcing gently inside her, sliding in and out. He rolled over, leaning up, and dipped his other hand down, finding out her clit with a fingertip, beginning the move he'd done before that made her clench her teeth and arch gently up into his hand.

Somehow, the silence accentuated the pleasure - intensifying everything to touch, to visceral certainty, without words or noises to guide or mislead. Gwen's sensations are locked on just his hands, slippy and certain and fast-moving, and the feel of his cock in her palm as she stroked - slower, more distracted, with his fingers working on her, playing on her like a virtuoso, gently unwinding her. And when he leaned in again, let her tongue part his lips and kissed her, breathlessly, hungrily, and in complete quiet, she felt the sensations begin to unravel and extend, starting in the tip of her clit as he flicked and stroked it, and expanding in pulses right through her cunt, locking round his fingers, then dispersing through her limbs, forcing her hips up in a couple of quick, shaking jolts. Her breath came between her teeth, but she kept it silent, her face twisting in the effort to hold in such an explosion of pleasure.

Her body flopped and went limp, and Jack carefully took his hands away and leaned up on an elbow next to her, stroking her thigh. She lay with her eyes shut for a few seconds, chest heaving, then opened her eyes and stared up at him.

"Wow." She mouthed the word at him, face intent, then a smile broke through and she grinned, looking happier than she had in - days, in fact.

She took a couple more big steadying breaths, and then reached back for his cock, which has started to soften with the lack of contact. She pushed him over on his back and knelt up to sit astride his thighs, so she could grip him easily. He leaned up on his elbows, eyes a fraction unfocussed, to watch her, look from her intent face to her small hand working him, rubbing and tweaking and twisting on his cock, which grew excitedly in her palm. He felt in his trouser pocket - rapid clothed sex not being entirely unknown to him, he tends to have a handkerchief in his pocket for occasions like this. But before he can produce it, she glanced up and met his eye, glanced to his cock and back to his face, with an enquiring expression and the tip of her tongue resting gently on her top lip, signifying plainly and filthily "want me to go down on you?"

He inhaled sharply, feeling a throb of excitement from just that look on her face, and he'd swear the sudden jolt of his heartbeat must have been audible to Tosh and Owen. He nodded, his eyes wide. He'd not expected this for a second, but - she was on top.

She did none of the kissing his lips and working down his body thing she would have done with more time, if she's been acting out her complete fantasy of things she wanted to do with Jack (a list she developed and elaborated on when work was slow or sleep was elusive).

Even while they're touching and kissing, he feels far away, as if she's lost him. His voice, she realises, is such a strong part of him - the cheerfully commanding drawl, the richness of his tone when he's amused, the occasional sharp snap of an order. When he's silent, even with his mobile, expressive face and ability to make himself understood, he's distant from her, and she wants to get closer, keep him here with her, keep him focussed.

So now, she takes him in rapidly, loops his cock with her tongue, flat and wet and slick, then switches direction and works over him the other way. She laps at the tip and tastes him, a tiny smudge of salt on her tongue. She's never thought she was great at blowjobs - certainly not like in the films - but she makes it up in affection and enthusiasm, liking the taste, liking the appreciative noises various lovers have made as she's licked and sucked them.

She looks up - instinctively she is waiting for a noise, a term of endearment, but he's completely, eerily, silent, only when she catches sight of his face does she know what effect she's having.

He is completely undone, his handsome face almost cariacatured in an expression of frozen amazement. Encouraged, she dipped down again, but kept flicking her eyes up to see how he's reacting.

The truth is, it's her eyes as much as her technique that catch at him, make him tense up to hold back gasps and moans of pleasure.  
She's lying with her body along his legs, sucking him off with rapid, messy enthusaism. She didn't swallow him, focussing on his tip, circling and licking and teasing at his frenulum with the tip of her tongue, using her hand to work the greater part of his length with firm arhythmic strokes. He got agonisingly close, so she could see his eyes clench shut, his jaw stiffen as he gritted his teeth, intent on holding back any sound even as he - _almost - any second now_ -

Jack held his breath completely as the orgasm spilled through him, focussed and tight and intense, making him shudder and twist as he spurted in hot, sharp gushes. He could feel nothing but Gwen's lips, sucking hard on his throbbing tip, working him til he'd subsided, every drop of his cum spent. She swallowed - unexpectedly - and as he relaxed she licked over him a couple of times.

He was shaking, his vision blurry with the lack of oxygen, and even now he had to force himself to breathe at a normal speed while his heart thudded wildly and she scrambled up to hug him, laying her head on his chest.

He can't speak, couldn't have even without the obligation of silence, so he stroked her hair back off her brow and kissed it very softly. She looked at him, questioning face: "Good?"

He grinned, a sated, happy grin, and pulled her against him for another hug.

'Jack? Jack?'

'Hi, Tosh?' Gwen said, saving him answering.

'Gwen - we've tracked you down - Owen's two minutes away now, he'll be there - '

Jack jumped, excercised the power of fast recovery that he'd perfected long ago. He sat up, hastily rebuttoning his trousers and checking himself over. As if they'd rehearsed it, he and Gwen leap to their feet and brush the dust from the floor off each other. Gwen licked her lips rapidly, checking her face with her fingers for marks - and even exhausted as he was, Jack feels like laughing or kissing her or suggesting a second date, just seeing her do it.

Owen reached the door, tried it, and then yelled at them to keep back. They heard him throwing his weight at it. Gwen glanced up at Jack, who was looking self-consciously composed. A final silent communique in her face.

"We never mention this again, sunshine - understand?"

Jack inclined his head, the slightly deferential thing he does when he's either listening carefully or sending someone up. It's his "Whatever you say, Ma'am," look.

After she'd looked away, he flicked an eyebrow, just at the world in general. He's happy to keep his distance - and he will - but he's not so convinced she can keep her hands off him.

END  



End file.
